The next day, at the academy training grounds.
Minato Namikaze was uneasy. The first stage of that sealing technique was deceptively simple—he'd mastered the so-called Peigen Realm overnight. But the results were… strange.
All three basic jutsu had been locked down. The seal sucked back any chakra that leaked beyond the skin, smothering ninjutsu before it could form.
On the other hand, the accumulated chakra inside the seal had sharpened his body's sensitivity, boosting his reflexes and speed. His taijutsu felt stronger than ever.
But ninjutsu? Completely sealed away.
Stronger? Weaker? He honestly couldn't tell.
What he did know was that today's sparring class didn't feel nearly as reassuring as usual.
Minato's eyes slid sideways toward a certain Uchiha.
Senior Jinzō was sprawled under a tree, one arm tucked behind his head, snoring in the shade like he didn't have a care in the world.
Peaceful. Serene.
—Too serene!!
Senior Jinzō, wake up already! At least try to wipe away your past shame!
Across the field, Instructor Inoue's face had gone pitch black.
Get up! Get up, damn it!! Minato screamed in his heart.
"I hate problem students," Inoue muttered darkly. The pencil in his hand snapped clean in two between thumb and forefinger. With a sigh, he dug into his leg pouch and pulled out another.
Extra pencils: the true weapon of a long-suffering teacher.
He stared at the student roster. Gods, how he wanted to scrawl a giant red cross over Jinzō's name—but duty forced him to restrain himself.
The other students, bright-eyed and eager, soothed his mood a little. But then his gaze snagged on that name again.
Why was a repeat student dumped in Class A of all places? He'd never understand.
Still, class had to go on.
"Pair off," Inoue barked. "Today you'll spar one-on-one. I'll be grading your performance."
This wasn't just about skill—it was about stamina, endurance, grit. A full day of fighting would strip them down to their limits.
As for injuries? They were shinobi. No one cared. The academy back then was nothing like the hand-holding, watered-down version it would become years later.
"Begin!"
In an instant, students scrambled for opponents.
Several Uchihas zeroed in on one boy in particular, their eyes gleaming with the promise of violence.
Minato lost sight of Jinzō because someone else had stepped in front of him.
"Hyūga Kiyoshi. Let's settle this."
Minato frowned. Of course. The perennial runner-up. Hyūga Kiyoshi had been chasing him for years.
Second place forever—that label must've been eating him alive.
Kiyoshi's pale eyes burned with frustration. Today, he meant to shatter that curse.
Minato scratched his cheek, wincing. Even with his weird new handicap, he didn't see how Kiyoshi could possibly beat him.
He'd honestly wanted to spar with Senior Jinzō instead. Hesitant, he offered, "Maybe you should switch opponents. You really can't beat me right now."
He meant it sincerely. But sincerity doesn't fly with a proud Hyūga.
Kiyoshi's face twisted with rage. "Namikaze Minato…! Unforgivable!"
Meanwhile, under the tree…
Jinzō cracked one eye open. A ring of Uchiha boys had gathered, glaring down at him.
The one in front, crew-cut and puffed-up with pride, spat out a challenge."Uchiha Jinzō. If you have even a shred of clan pride, duel me. Loser quits the academy."
The scum of Uchiha had no place here.
Jinzō dug at his ear with his pinky. "Seriously? This again?"
It wasn't like he hadn't dropped out before—only to get dragged back. He would've been perfectly happy as a pampered rich man instead of slogging it out as a shinobi. But no. The clan would never allow it. Neither would Konoha. If you had chakra, you were a weapon, end of story.
"Tell you what," Jinzō said with a mock-sheepish grin. "When I get married, I'll just change my last name to Hyūga."
Silence.
Then—
"You—!" Crew-cut's face went crimson. His curse dissolved into incoherent rage. "You bastard! Go to hell!!"
If his two buddies hadn't restrained him, this would've turned into an attempted murder, not a spar.
Saying you'd take the Hyūga name, in front of Uchihas? It was like calling Hashirama Senju trash in front of Madara.
The other two didn't look much happier.
"Drag the corpse out later," Jinzō yawned.
The long-haired one glared, spitting venom. "Your parents actually produced… you?"
Jinzō opened both eyes at last.
Something shifted. His gaze went bottomless, pupils like black holes swallowing the light.
Long-hair's breath hitched. His body moved before his brain, stepping back in raw instinctive fear.
But when he blinked, Jinzō had vanished.
A chill crawled up his neck. He turned—and froze.
Jinzō was behind him, exhaling softly against his skin.
What kind of lunatic—?!
Before he could speak, cold steel kissed his throat.
A kunai.
"You?"
The boy's whole body locked up. It felt like a serpent had slithered up his back, fangs brushing the nape of his neck. One twitch, and—
"AHHHH!" His scream ripped through the training grounds, high and panicked, drawing every eye.
Jinzō's hand clapped his shoulder, casual."Relax. We're just sparring, right? No need to drag your parents into it. Unless you actually want to die here."
"Enough."
Instructor Inoue appeared in a blur, clamping down on Jinzō's arm. His eyes narrowed, his tone tight.
"Don't direct killing intent at your classmates."
Because that wasn't just posturing. That suffocating pressure… it was the real thing. The kind of murderous aura born from surviving countless hunts and battles. The kind of killing intent no academy student should ever have.
And yet this boy wore it like a second skin.
Jinzō just grinned. "Relax, Iguchi-sensei. I was kidding."
A vein popped in Inoue's forehead."It's Inoue!!"
"Right, right. Ishida-sensei."
He was doing it on purpose. The brat.
Elsewhere, Minato had already dropped Kiyoshi to the ground in a few swift blows.
The Hyūga boy clutched his bruised arm, staring at the sun overhead as if his whole worldview had collapsed.
"The gap… why is the gap so huge?"
Even without ninjutsu, Minato's raw strength had crushed his soft fist techniques. Every block left him numb and battered.
Minato offered him a hand, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, I went a little too hard."
Kiyoshi stared at that bright, honest smile—and burst into tears.
Congratulations, Minato Namikaze. Achievement unlocked: Break a rival's spirit so hard he cries like a kid.
Kushina, meanwhile, stood by the riverbank with her hands on her hips, cackling. "Hah! Those weaklings dropped in two hits. Pathetic!"
Jinzō eyed her, then side-eyed Minato. This is your type? Seriously? A hot-headed man-beater with zero self-control?
Minato caught the look and flushed red, turning away.
"You're blushing like a boiling teapot!" Jinzō needled.
Kushina whipped around instantly, eyes narrowing. She hadn't heard what he said, but her sixth sense screamed he was talking trash.
Even at her age, her instincts were terrifying.
She glanced at Minato's red face and scowled. Why is my teammate such a girl? Where's your backbone? Beat that smug Uchiha into the dirt already!
Minato, sensing danger, scrambled for a new subject."Uh—Ninjutsu class is tomorrow. What do we do?"
Worry clouded his voice. Right now, he couldn't use a single technique.
Jinzō clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax. The last year's mostly theory anyway. Bits of intelligence-gathering, infiltration, survival tricks… As long as you keep your head down, no one'll notice. If you do have to show off, just bluff it. You'll be fine."
The knowledge you picked up in that final year could carry you straight through genin, maybe even into chūnin if you were in Class A.
Minato nodded, but unease lingered. He was top of the class. Teachers loved dragging him up front. What if they forced him to demonstrate?
On the battlefield—far away from Konoha's sheltered walls—there were no demonstrations. Only war cries, clashing steel, and jutsu roaring across mountainsides.
Explosions lit up the horizon. Screams split the air.
"Stop!"
"Stop it!!"
"I said STOP!!"
Tsunade's voice cracked with pain as she poured chakra into her healing jutsu, hands glowing over a broken body.
A comrade's hand touched her shoulder, voice trembling. "Enough, Tsunade. He's already… gone."
Her hands froze. Her eyes widened. Then—
"Ahhhh!"
Her scream tore from her throat, raw and grieving, like a bird mourning its mate.
On the branch above, Orochimaru watched in silence as his disciples' corpses lay sprawled in the blood-stained dirt.
He didn't even know what expression to wear. It felt as if something inside him had died along with them.
Because humans—humans were so fragile. So easily destroyed.
The grandson of the First Hokage.The younger brother of Tsunade.The disciple of Orochimaru.
Nawaki Senju.
Declared dead.